Today is not someday. Today is the day you are 15. Today is the day you lash out at everything I say. Yell at me, tell me you hate me and I’m the worst mom ever. Today is the day you seem to hate me and everything I do. Today is the day I disappoint you, embarrass you, anger and make you sad.
Someday you will realize everything I’ve ever done was out of love. Someday you will know that you are my world. Someday you will know I fought for you, for you to be my child! Someday you will realize you are my everything.
But today is not someday. We have to live with today.
By the end of the year my Dear Grandmother Laura passed. She was old in years and it was expected a women of her age and well lets just say an amazing life to have to die at some point. But you never really grasp it at the time. She was our matriarch. The one who held the family together. The strong Norwegian tall, with size 13 mens shoes. When you came into her home you were family. You were always given a hot meal, a sweet treat and a warm bed if needed. My whole life I looked up to this women. This strong women. So truth be told, watching her failing health the last few years of her life was hard. When we would visit and she would say that she was ready to go home to her heavenly father. To see may Grandfather, my father who had passed on before her I could understand. It must be hard going from a strong independent women to a frail, helpless women depending on others.
She had what the Drs thought to be a stroke. But with no test we will never know? I don’t believe them. She laid there in her bed for a week no water, no food. I brought my son the first day and she was non responsive. he was so upset. crying, telling me that he wished one more time to hear her tell the story how she was Grand Marshall in the parade and they road together in the convertible. It was their story! I told him to tell her the story. He did. As he told her the story she opened her eyes, as he got to the part where she taught him how to wave she lifted her arm and started to wave at him… We all jumped up and started screaming. Oh Tommy Boy! (that is what my Grandmother always referred to my son as. It took Tommy Boy to get Grandma to wake up!! That day and part of the next she was with us. She couldn’t speak, she communicated with her eyes and she moved her hands a little. I took my son home and came back with my daughter and we ended up staying the entire week. taking care of her almost up until the end. Swabbing her mouth, rubbing her head, hands, telling her we loved her, making she she was comfortable. Making the plans for after…